


Something Sweet

by jfcmartin



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Birthday, College, Fluff, M/M, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 10:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5782114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jfcmartin/pseuds/jfcmartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan, Chris, and PJ celebrate Chris’ birthday in a fancy restaurant that gives cakes to customers on their birthdays, or maybe when the customer is cute.</p>
<p>Beta Reader: <a href="http://phangirlingforphan.tumblr.com/">Phangirlingforphan</a>!! Thank youuuuu :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh tis my second actual Phanfic!!! As usual I scrolled through AU's on Tumblr and stumbled upon this... I can't find it tho but if I do I will link it here. As usual nothing belongs to me but the string of words that made this fic! Hope you guys enjoy it.

PJ and Chris thought it was a great idea to have lunch at a real restaurant for a change. Mostly because it was Chris’s birthday. They would usually go to the nearest fast food chain, or maybe whatever was cheap. But to celebrate the occasion, they plan to change their normal eating experience. They wanted to say goodbye to one minute radioactive meals for a day and live their life with less radioactive meals.

The transportation was all on PJ; he would go to Dan’s flat first before going to Chris, since his place was nearer to the restaurant they were planning to go to. It was a bit more formal than usual, but not that kind of restaurants only multi millionaires would opt for. They couldn’t afford that even if they sold all their bodies. To give the three of them a chance to feel elegant for a day, Chris proposed that all of them should wear something fancy. Well, fancier than what they usually wear, and act like “proper British lads”.

Dan grumbled as he checked his wristwatch, which read 5:44 PM. He was scratching his arm because of the material of his dress shirt, which he had to borrow from Tyler, and it was a size too big for his figure. The material was foreign to his skin and he was very sure he was going to have a rash. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the material, or if Tyler had a serious skin problem.

Dan heard a beep outside, signaling his friend’s arrival. He grabbed his wallet from his dresser and shoved it in the inner pocket of his suit. He got out and immediately regretted leaving the coat, so he walked hurriedly approached the vehicle. Through the window, Dan could see PJ looked very pleased with himself; his dress shirt was undoubtedly ironed well and his hair was gelled up and groomed neatly. Dan opened the back door and sighed at the rush of heat.

“I officially regret not bringing a coat,” Dan mumbled, shuffling to sit on the middle. He closed the door forcefully and crossed his arms.

“Be careful!” He warned. “Why don’t you go back and get it?”

Dan rolled his eyes and said, “Nevermind that, let’s go.”

“Fine,” PJ said. He pulled away from the driveway and started to drive. He looked at the mirror for a split second to look at his friend and asked, “So where to, Sir. Howell?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “To the peasant. The Kendall man.”

PJ tipped his head to the side and said, “Will do, sir.”

They travelled for at least ten minutes. As usual, PJ always had the greatest luck of reaching every single stop light in their route. He mostly blamed the sixty something year old driver in front of them. The car looked like it was about to collapse and the exhaust pipe could release more smoke than a factory.

The sky was pretty dark since it's winter, and Dan’s body clock was deceived into believing that it was already nap time. He was starting to doze off, despite the loud pop songs blaring from the radio. His head was starting to tip backwards as the repetitive song played in the background. Dan was sure that it will be stuck in his head for the remainder of the night.

The only thing that woke him up was PJ’s loud honking. He jumped from his seat and hit his head on the roof. Tall people problems.

“What the hell was that?” Dan yelled through the beeping. It took a few times for him to realize that it was to the tune of the happy birthday song.

He saw the front door open and Chris came out, descending on the flight of stairs and opened the shotgun door with an annoyed expression.

“Do you seriously want to get the police called on you, Peej?” He glared at PJ, who smiled widely at him. He reached for something from the glove compartment and took a box out in the size of his hand wrapped up crudely in line paper. He tried to compensate for it with a red ribbon; he was good at making knots.

“Happy birthday!” he greeted. Chris reluctantly unravelled the ribbon. He ripped the line paper and revealed a white cardboard box. He raised his eyebrows, trying to guess what it was. Dan furrowed his eyebrows in thought; Peej told him he was gonna give Chris a copy of How to Fix Everything for Dummies, but the box was obviously too small for that.

Chris took the flap open and revealed a wooden figure. It was some sort of man sticking out of a barrel, with a square stand to support it. Peej raised his brows suggestively, so Chris poked it around and realized the barrel was removable. He gently raised the barrel off the man and his arm sprung out from his sides. And another arm in front of him. It was silent for a moment before they burst into laughter.

“You literally got me a statue with an erection! I’m honored, thank you,” the celebrant said sarcastically.

Peej laughed and said, “I saw it in an Asian antique shop and it reminded me of you.”

“Touching. Now can we go? I’m starving,” Dan interrupted. “I’m giving you my gift later, to make it feel more special!”

Peej raised his hands in defeat and said, “I just didn’t think the gift would be appropriate for a fancy dinner setting, Howell.”

Dan simply rolled his eyes as PJ started to drive. A casual discussion about their day turned into a heated discussion about which one was better: the Oreo cookie or the Oreo cream. Chris angrily pointed the statue’s penis at Dan’s face as he argued that the cream was the part that made the Oreo an Oreo. PJ couldn’t exactly give his own commentary as he kept his eyes on the road.

They were two blocks away from the restaurant, but PJ decided to find a parking spot. He found an empty space by the pavement and parked there. Parallel parking wasn’t his forte, but then again, parking in general was one of the many things he wasn’t good at. He turned the engine off and finally prompted the two to shut up.

“Hello! We’re here,” he said.

“Your GPS says we’re a minute away,” Dan observed. “And it’s called a ‘cookie’ for a reason, Chris. Otherwise, it would’ve been called ‘Oreo Cream’.”

PJ huffed and said, “First of all, both of you shut up! The cookie can’t survive without the cream and vice versa, can we all agree with that?” He added, “Also, it’s a valet parking. I don’t really have extra cash with me right now.” He checked the streets for any cars passing by and when the coast was clear, he went out, with Dan and Chris following behind.

 

Dan crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his hands rubbing his arms to provide some sort of heat. He cursed for the billionth time for not bringing a coat and glared at PJ and Chris wearing coats.

It was safe to say that PJ was the one with the best fashion sense of the three of them. He wore a violet dress shirt, which almost looked black, a grey tie, and a brown overcoat. Compared to Dan’s light green oversized shirt and pink polka dotted tie, he looked more professional and mature, and he wasn’t blaming Tyler for it and Dan really looked terrible no matter what he wore. Chris wore a grey shirt and a black tie; the choice was simple for being the man of the night, but he looked fancy either way.

After what felt like ten hours of walking in the cold, they finally saw the establishment they came for. It was noticeable for the three black awnings with their name written on top, the usual topiaries lined outside the glass windows, and a man stood outside the entrance by a podium. He stood with a stance of authority and stared condescendingly at them when they approached him.

Chris presented himself first, cleared his throat, and said, “Good evening, sir. We have reservations for three?”

The man’s face was stone hard, as if he didn’t believe in them. “What name is it under?”

“Chris Kendall?” he said.

The man scanned his list, flipping over to the C page. He nodded and hummed. Dan and PJ watched their exchange. They could see how uncomfortable he was and was probably gonna sweat, despite the weather being close to freezing. The man took the walkie talkie on his podium and mumbled something incoherent into it. A static was heard and a shrill voice after.

The door behind him opened and a girl with another walkie talkie came out. She had her red hair up in a neat bun and wore the same uniform as the man by the podium; black shirt, olive green apron, slacks, and dress shoes. In her case, she had black heels, to compensate for her height probably.

“Good evening, gentlemen! Please follow me,” she said, opening the door open to accommodate the three of them. Dan smiled awkwardly at the podium guy as some sort of thank-you, but his face barely moved a muscle.

PJ laughed at him and said, “Cheer up, man!” And his reply was only a scowl.

The three followed the girl in an awkward trail as Dan felt like his face was about to melt. The restaurant was like Australia compared to the outside. The girl finally stopped at a booth with cushioned seats, gesturing for them to sit down. PJ and Chris sat on one side and Dan sat by himself on the other. The girl handed each of them a menu and took out a notepad and pencil from her apron pocket.

“Good evening again, gentlemen. I’m Tiffany and I’m going to be your server for today!” she greeted. Dan could feel how scripted it was, he memorized it himself. He used to work at a Thai restaurant near his parents’ house, and he was trained to do it every time.

Chris looked over the menu and glanced at Dan and PJ. He turned his head to Tiffany, smiled and said, “We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

“Will do,” she replied and left to tend to other customers.

“I’m thinking about getting fish and chips,” PJ murmured.

Dan gave him a look of disbelief and said, “We came all this way for fish and chips?”

“Look, it’s a fish fillet but it's shaped like an actual fish!” He countered, showing the probably unrealistic illustration on his menu.

Dan couldn’t decide what to get; the choices were either too common or too expensive. He shrugged and chose the white pasta. Chris also thought the fish and chips looked aesthetically pleasing, so he got them as well.

Chris started to look for their server in the crossed off people. He saw one who looked similar but with blonde hair so he kept looking. Dan looked around the restaurant to see if he found her, but no such luck.

The restaurant gave a very different vibe to the usual colorful and bright colors of regular fast food chains. Instead of red, the chairs were black, just like his soul. The tables were spotless and there wasn't any left over ketchup or mustard from the previous customers. There was a fancy napkin holder and a salt and pepper rack on the center.

“Ready to order?” the girl asked, finally coming back to their table.

“Yeah, erm, we would like to have two fish and chips,” Chris said, pointing at the words on the menu as the girl wrote on her pad. “And the Pesto Pasta for the gentleman over here,” he gestured to Dan, who gave him a tight smile.

Tiffany giggled and said, “Would that be all, sir? Any drinks?”

“Water would be great,” he replied. She nodded and repeated their order to confirm it. Once everything was set, she left.

Dan noticed that the kitchen was visible from where he was sitting. He saw all the chefs busily walking around flipping pans or setting stuff in ovens. Dan could practically feel the heat coming from the kitchen as he remembered the memory of working in a restaurant. He felt very bad for the chefs having to wear very thick clothing and those fancy hats. Was it even necessary?

After snapping out of his train of thought, he realized he was staring at one of the chefs; he was probably on break since he was just standing by the window drinking from a bottle of water. He had the bluest eyes Dan could ever imagine and visibly had blue hair under his hat. He smiled shyly at Dan, which made him blush, and turned away.

A man came out with a tray of plates and utensils and positioned them in front of the three. He also placed an opera house serviette on top of each plate, which they promptly placed on their laps. Another man came in with three glasses and a pitcher of water. He placed one in front of them and poured water in each of them.

“So, what does it feel like being twenty-three?” PJ asked Chris jokingly.

Chris shrugged and said, “I feel queasy. It's like the taxes are starting to sink in deeper.”

“It’s your birthday, sir?” The waiter inquired as he started to pour water on PJ’s glass.

“Oh no, it's--”

“Yes! He’s turned twenty-two today!” PJ interrupted, fully aware of what Chris didn’t want to happen.

The waiter smiled and said, “Happy birthday, sir! We have something in store for very special people like you.”

Chris groaned as the waiter left excitedly. Dan cackled as he gave PJ death glares.

He raised his hands in defeat and said, “I just wanted the free cake.”

Minutes passed and Chris’ free cake hasn’t arrived yet. He was silently hoping they have forgotten about it. Their orders were served and they dug in. Dan started talking about his current anime obsession while his peers listen intently.

“I mean you guys should watch it!” he encouraged. “I mean most people watch it for the swimming.”

“Yeah, the swimming. Right,” Chris said as he ate three chips at once. They were cut in big wedges so PJ couldn’t even eat one at once.

Their server, Tiffany, came back to their table and placed a small round cake beside Dan. It was dark brown with chocolate shavings all around it. A circle of chocolate adorned the top with a white heart at the center. She said, “The chef asked me to give this to you, sir.”

“Really? Who?” Dan asked, blushing at their kind gesture.

“Chef Lester!” she sighed dreamily. “He’s the head chef of the pastry department. He also wanted to know what your name is.”

“Oh,” he glanced at the open window by the kitchen and saw someone duck out of his view, it must’ve been him. He looked at his annoyed friends, smiled and replied, “My name is Dan. Tell him i said thanks.”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows and said, “It's my birthday? Not his?”

The girl smiled at him and said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Kendall. Yours will be out in a minute. We’re just prepping the band! And Dan your message will be delivered.” Sbe left before she could even hear his complaints.

Dan took his fork and sunk it onto the pastry. His eyes lit up when he saw the Maltesers inside of it. He brought it to his mouth and moaned. “Okay, this is the best thing I ever tasted.” Chris and PJ took their forks and attempted to try it, but Dan swatted their hands. “Hey! This is mine. Go ask Chef Lester if you want some.” He pulled the plate closer to him and savored every bite, making weird noises which probably made the other guest uncomfortable.

Tiffany came back with three men with a guitar, maracas, and a xylophone. The girl held a cake smaller than Dan’s, and less appealing, and shouted, “Happy birthday Chris Kendall!”

Chris buried his head into his arms and groaned as they cheered the birthday song. Dan and PJ cheered along mockingly and people from other people quietly clapped along.

When the song was over, she said, “Blow the candles, sir!” Tiffany held the cake near his head. He raised slowly and blew the fire off before retreating to his hiding place.

PJ gave the band and Tiffany an apologetic look and said, “He gets startled by human interaction. I apologize.” He took the cake from her hands and said thank you.

The band patted Chris’s back and greeted him individually before they departed as Tiffany turned to Dan. She took a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. She pointed to the kitchen suggestively and left to clean the table adjacent from theirs. He turned his head to the window and saw the same chef waving at him. He waved back meekly.

He unfolded the paper and read the smudgy hand writing on it. There was a brown dot on the paper, probably chocolate syrup fell on it and he tried to clean it up. It read, Hey! I hope you liked the cake… I might’ve been too extra with the chocolate shaving -Phil

So his name is Phil, he thought. He giggled and took his fork to resume eating his dessert. PJ sliced Chris’s birthday cake in half and ate one of the slices. He murmured silently and nodded, satisfied that it wasn’t as terrible as he expected. Chris sat straight and stole the plate from PJ, to try it for himself, and reacted the same way.

Chris looked up and saw someone approaching. He cleared his throat and glared at Dan, who was too busy eating the remainder of his cake. He said, “I’m in love with Chef Lester now. How did he know I liked Maltesers?”

“Well the Maltesers bit is a coincidence, but I’m glad you liked them,” a voice said from behind Dan. He twisted his head at the source and saw Chef Lester, or Phil if they were on a first name basis. He was in the process of swallowing his cake and he choked. He reached for his glass of water and tried to drink it in between his coughs, Chris and PJ sniggering in front of him without doing any help. Phil made a lame attempt to help him by rubbing his back, but it didn’t do any good.

Once Dan recovered, he wiped his mouth and said, “Hey?”

Phil was blushing badly and said, “I’m so sorry I startled you. I just got off my shift and I was just going to ask you if you liked it.”

“He literally had an orgasm right in front of us, Lester,” PJ commented. Dan gave him a death glare and Chris nodded in agreement. If anything, Phil was more flustered about that comment than Dan.

“Just call me Phil,” he mumbled. He shuffled on his feet and linked his hands on his back. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Oh yeah, I did,” Dan confirmed.

“Well, we didn’t! Because he didn’t give us any,” Chris protested. Dan kicked him under the table and smiled forcefully. He hated his friends for ruining whatever is developing between him and Phil. They were the worst wingmen he could ever have.

“Really?” Phil asked skeptically. He looked at Dan in a mocked surprised manner and said, “Sharing is caring!”

Dan smiled at his comment, it showed that he had a childish side in him and he found it rather cute. “Well, I don’t share very important things with other people,” he argued as he ate the last piece from the pastry.

“That was smooth as fuck, Howell,” Chris mumbled, not even trying to be discreet. Dan has had enough, he wanted to talk to Phil in peace.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” he suggested and Phil nodded bashfully. He stood up and took his wallet from his trousers. He took a few pounds and handed them to Chris. “Call Tiffany and pay up.”

Chris accepted the money and counted it, to see if he gave the right amount. He gave Dan a thumbs up and said, “You’re all set. Make sure you use protection, alright sweetheart?”

Dan sighed exasperatedly and gave Phil a questioning look, asking him to lead the way. He got the message and started to walk somewhere else, Dan shuffling awkwardly behind. He led him towards the kitchen door and took his coat from the coat rack.

“D’you wanna go outside?” Phil asked, wearing it on.

“Erm, can we just stay here?” Dan offered. He could feel the cold already. He thought of stealing PJ or Chris’s coat for the meantime, but he didn’t really want to have anything to do with them for the rest of the night.

“Come on, it's more peaceful out there,” he elbowed him on the arm playfully. “Save for the drunk people by the pubs, i guess.”

“Well the thing is,” Dan started carefully, “I don’t have a coat with me.” He realized that it was a pretty lame excuse to say, but Phil seemed to understand.

“You can borrow mine!” he suggested, shrugging his coat off and handed it to him. Dan tried to decline it multiple times, but he wouldn’t budge.

“How about you?”

“The warmth of your company is good enough for me.”

On normal circumstances, Dan would’ve gagged at the cheesy line. But this was Phil, it’s different. Dan had no other choice but to take it. He gave Phil a thumbs up after wearing it, despite it being two sizes bigger than him, and Phil smiled goofily. Together, they went outside the restaurant and turned right.

“Thanks for the cake, by the way. Do we have to pay for it?” Dan said.

Phil shook his head and said, “Oh, you don’t have to! I made that just for you, free of charge!”

“Do you normally give people cakes when you feel like it?” Dan questioned, raising his eyebrows.

He shrugged in reply. “I don’t usually do it because it comes out of my pocket. But I will for you.”

Dan blushed and dropped his head to stare at the pavement, too embarrassed to meet Phil’s eyes as he threw another question. “Why would you?” Phil mumbled something softly that Dan couldn’t hear. He leaned in closer and said, “Hmm?”

“I think you’re cute,” he repeated, barely louder than the first attempt. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to search for any reply in Dan’s eyes.

“Thanks?” Dan said. He never knew what to say when people complimented him, mostly because it never happened.

They decided to just walk around the block as they eased into a light conversation about their interests. Apparently, they both had a lot in common; they both liked anime, and more importantly, Muse. They talked about the upcoming concert they’re going to have in the summer, and they planned to go together.

They also talked about Phil’s job too, how much time he took to learn the cakes that he did, and how happy he was every time people gave him recognition about it. Dan was fascinated with everything Phil had to say, even if it was about confectioner’s sugar or whatever culinary term he had no idea about. The way that his eyes twinkled when he talked about his interests gave him a warm feeling in his chest. He could care less if he talked the whole day, he wouldn’t get tired of him.

“And the Malteser cake! It's the best seller.” He revealed.

“Well, you’re lucky I love Maltesers.” Dan remarked, crossing his arms and raising his chin proudly.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Phil countered.

“Stop flirting with me!” He half complained. They took a right by the corner which led them back to the restaurant.

“Is it not working?” He challenged. Dan’s bashful smile already answered his question. They stopped in front of the man outside the restaurant, who was eyeing them warily as they talked.

Dan bounced on his feet and said, “I guess we should get back inside. It’s getting late and I’m sure you’re tired from work.”

Phil shrugged and replied, “Yeah, your friends might be looking for you by now.” He opened the door and gestured for Dan to go inside.

“Oh, you go ahead. I’m just gonna fix something.” Phil gave him a look of affirmation and he just nodded.

“Okay then,” he decided, patted the shoulder of the man by the podium, and shuffled inside. Dan giggled softly and instantly regained his posture as he turned towards the man by the podium.

“Can I have a paper and pen?” Dan asked. He huffed and flipped his guest book to the last page and tore it off, handing it to him with the pen in his pocket. “Thanks,” he read his nameplate, “Martyn Lester.” His eyes widened and looked at him with horror.

“If you were wondering, yes I am,” he said with a smirk. It was the first facial expression Dan ever saw from him besides his poker face. “I have nothing against you and my brother, but please stay away from me if you plan to get on with it.”

Dan slowly placed the paper on the podium and folded it until it was small enough to fit inside his fist. He uncapped the pen wrote a set of numbers on it and placed it inside his pocket. “Thanks, I guess.”

He started to walk towards the door, smiled awkwardly at Martyn, and went inside. He took of Phil’s coat and placed it gently on the coat rack. Phil emerged from the door, which made Dan jump.

“I’m so sorry I--”

“No, it's alright. I was just about to return your coat,” he took it back and handed it to him. “I also wanted to say thank you. I enjoyed tonight.”

Phil grinned, sticking his tongue in between his teeth and said, “So did I! We should do this again sometime.”

“I’m sure we will,” Dan said. He hesitated for a moment, calculating if his next move would be appropriate. He sighed and decided to lean in and place a chaste kiss on his cheek. His face started to heat up so he blurted, “Good night, Phil!” He ran away and didn’t turn back.

He spotted PJ and Chris watching him, giving him thumbs ups and obnoxious cheers. He grabbed both of them by their arms and pulled them out by force. They asked him a lot of questions on the way back to the car, about what happened or what did he say. But he won’t answer any of them. After all, he did not share very important things with other people.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Waddya guys think? :D Kudos and comments are gladly appreciated!
> 
> Here's my [Tumblr](http://rephil.tumblr.com/) if you haven't stumbled upon it yet


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